


Fleeing the City

by idontevenknow (idontevenknowugh)



Series: Afflictionfell [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cruelty, Disease, Gen, afflictionfell, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknow
Summary: They weren't the only family hauling their meager possessions out of the capital that day. Sans struck up some idle conversation with a Guard while their papers were checked at the gates. Seven families had sought passage before them, and the day was young yet. Sans resisted the urge to ask how many had been turned away. Best not to tempt fate.





	Fleeing the City

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a collection of oneshots for the AU I've been musing on for the past year. There's no plans on a larger fic since I already have so much going on. These are going to be focused on character motivations. Check the end of the chapter for a link to Afflictionfell's blog. I'm going to be posting worldbuilding snippets, answering asks, and so forth there.

“finally,” Sans looked down at the stack of papers and fought back tears. Gold had exchanged hands, and his signature, despite being completely illegible, adorned the bottom of each page. It was done. They were getting out of the city. The house itself was a dream come true. They’d been lucky housing prices in Snowdin were still reasonable. For a lot of monsters, the harsh climate wasn't worth it while Waterfall was still considered a safe haven.

They weren't the only family hauling their meager possessions out of the capital that day. Sans struck up some idle conversation with a Guard while their papers were checked at the gates. Seven families had sought passage before them, and the day was young yet. Sans resisted the urge to ask how many had been turned away. Best not to tempt fate. One of the guards had a buddy in Snowdin, so Sans made sure to commit the monster’s name to memory. Unfortunately, friendly chatter didn't distract his partner from taking a good look at the health reports. It took another two hours and Sans stripping to convince them that his low HP didn't mean he was a risk. His jaw ached as he fought the urge to explain to them just why that couldn't be possible. To do so would give way to far too many questions. That report had been banned for most of Sans’s life.

The land around the city was mostly abandoned. It was too hot for much beyond the labs, which they made sure to skirt, and the facilities required to keep the core running smoothly. The path they took was a deathtrap, as far as Sans was concerned, but Papyrus seemed to enjoy himself. The puzzles out here were so different from the ones in the city. They were still maintained, for one thing. Not many in New Home wasted time on tradition anymore. He kept explaining to Sans the history or the mechanism behind each particular puzzle. Even though he spoke down to Sans as he did so, and he was wrong half the time, it was nice to see him perk up.

Finally they made it to Waterfall. At first it seemed as sparse as Hotland, but not because monsters didn't want to live there. Sans counted three burned out houses and ten that were boarded closed, from the outside. One of these idiots must have figured out that burning things in an enclosed space was a bad idea. Good for them. He played with the idea of seeing if anyone was alive in the intact houses. If they weren't he would be exposing his brother to the horrors of a household that starved to death, if éadóchas didn't take them first. However, even if they were alive, freeing them wouldn't do any good. The community would lash out at them again, and they would dust another way. He bowed his skull and hurried after Papyrus.

The further they got from Hotland, the more monsters they saw. There was a lot of distrust in the air. Thankfully Papyrus knew better than to stop and talk to anyone. Monsters bristled and doors slammed as Sans had to assume they did to everyone who came from the direction of the capitol. Of course, thanks to him, they looked stranger than most.

Clothing had become a double edged sword around the underground. Many thought that avoiding direct contact with a carrier would lessen infection, but lots of clothes were also how a lot of ‘carriers’ hid their illness and avoided prosecution. Papyrus covered everything up to his sockets. Sans left his skull, legs, and hands bare, much to his brother's dismay. Sans was sure it made him that little bit more suspicious, but he refused to change his ways. It was his little innocuous fuck you to the whole affair. Papyrus didn't know that Sans wasn't going to contract anything and Sans wasn't about to tell him, even if it would make his life a little easier. It was too risky for Papyrus to know.

Eventually, they reached the camps. It was worse than he realized. Monsters were taking up all the available ground, only leaving a small path through the area. Some families didn't even have tents and were huddled on the damp ground miserably. He noticed more than a few were missing limbs. Their father had told Sans that Gráin had been nearly nonexistent since the end of the war. To see it make a comeback now was heartbreaking. He had to look away as he spotted a child, still in striped shirts, who was missing a leg. Maybe it was something else. He could only hope.

Beggars availed them on their way out of camp. Perhaps they thought that travelers would be worn down by seeing the sprawl of refugees. Too bad for them, Sans had spent damn near every gold they had on the house. A stray thought wanted to condemn one of the beggars. The tale tell yellow discoloring their arm meant they were only days from more visible signs. It was disgusting for them to sit there and rely on the compassion of others. The thoughts were thankfully drowned out by the knowledge that the monster likely wouldn't survive the week. Sans’s soul ached for that monster and the countless poor souls trying desperately to hide from Asgore’s mistakes.

Through the whole process Papyrus was silent, scarf pulled up around his jaw and sockets trained straight ahead, on their goal. Sans had to struggle to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. The farther they walked the more sparse it became.

Eventually the two brothers were the only ones leaving tracks in the snow. Sans floundered, the snow suddenly deep and untouched. This wasn't a well traveled road. It became even harder to keep up with his brother, and by the time they reached their new front door he felt like he was about to pass out. Papyrus held out a hand and Sans had to fish through his pockets for they key, but eventually they were inside. Sans took a quick look outside, and then shut the door, encasing them in darkness.

“i don't think anyone saw us,” he muttered and dropped his backpack on the ground to the side of the doorway.

“DON’T LEAVE THAT THERE,” Papyrus complained and moved to the kitchen where he set the bag with all the food they could manage to gather on the counter. It wasn't much, and they had heard that food was sparse out here. They would make do. They always did.

They decided rooms by Papyrus demanding the one closest to the stairs and Sans letting him have it. After a bit of nagging, Sans dragged his backpack up to his room. It was bare, but dump hunting was a problem for another day. For now, he hoped, they were safe.  
——-  
The next morning brought with it a whole host of complaints from Papyrus. The house was cold, he didn’t have a bed, only one burner of the stove worked. Sans sleepily glared at him, still trying to work out the kinks that sleeping on the floor had given him.

“I said it would be better, paps, but that doesn't mean it's perfect. Just give it time,” Sans did his best to calm his brother down as he pulled on his coat and slippers. They were still wet from the snow last night, and the damp material squelched up through his phalanges, prompting a shiver. He really needed to find better shoes. He liked the flame pattern, but they were just about falling apart.

“THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA, BLOWING ALL OF OUR SAVINGS ON THIS SHITHOLE,” Papyrus griped as he slammed a pan down on the stove. Sans flinched. They had already discussed this to death, and there was never a resolution. Sans had control of their money, so he just went and did it one day. With no way to keep their apartment back at New Home, Papyrus had been forced to follow. Sans felt bad, but it was all for Papyrus’s sake.

“well it’s done, and now i need to get to work on rectifying that,” Sans replied and zipped up his jacket.

Papyrus didn't say anything more. Sans felt his soul sink as he left the house. His brother had become more terse and angry the past several months, frequently directed at Sans himself. He didn't have any physical signs, at least not where Sans could see. It wasn't impossible, though. Had Papyrus fallen prey to drochíde while Sans built up the funds to do this? Had Sans gotten him out of the city too late?

**Author's Note:**

> Check out Afflictionfell on [Tumblr](https://afflictionfell.tumblr.com/) for more info on the world at large.


End file.
